"Emperor, I still feel that this is a bit..." Xia Ruqing was deeply conflicted.
She didn't want to be a woman who brought disaster upon the nation. There were far too many such tragedies in history—Yang Guifei, Yang Guozhong, and the like. She wanted none of that perilous prosperity, like wealth steeped in fierce flames and boiling oil. The more splendid the process, the more tragic the end. Even if her brother might not become a treacherous official bringing calamity to the nation, he couldn't fend off the jealousy of petty people. The heart of an emperor is unfathomable; who knew what the future held... what might eventually...
Zhao Junyao knew what she was worried about. He gave a roguish smile and lazily lay down on the low couch, pulling her into his embrace.
